Underdog
by Lawlypop
Summary: Clive gets his sentence to spend his years in prison. There, he shares a cell with an unlikely prison-mate. How does he know so much about Clive and what does he intend to do? Spoilers for the third game.
1. Awakening

A/N: Professor Layton doesn't belong to me, though I wish it does. D';

**Chapter One: Awakening**

Twenty years. That was how long Clive was to spend in the lonely hell known as jail. It had been a mere hour since the young man was pulled away from Professor Layton and the young apprentice after apprehending his crime.

Underground London lay in ruins, and the true London attacked by Clive's fortress was shackled only by the surrounding buildings. The area was decimated and countless dollars would be used to repair and bring forth the true glory that was once London. It was not only the buildings however; lives had been wasted at the expense of his so-called revenge. _All that for nothing._

The young man did not falter as he stood face-to-face with Inspector Chelmey at the station. Clive had since been cuffed on the wrists, and an officer held him on the back while another stood guard. Chelmey hid the confusion in his mind of how calm the boy looked. There was barely a hint of guilt or remorse, but a stern face that told him 'I know I have committed wrongs. Bring me my punishment.'

The inspector coughed slightly. "You, Clive, are sentenced to jail for the threat of possible destruction to our city. Not only that, but you endangered many important lives like myself – and killed those that were innocent." As Chelmey expected, there was no plea of forgiveness. _The boy mentally admitted to everything I just stated_. "Your personal belongings will be taken care of while you're gone. Rest assured, they will be untouched." Once again, there was no oral response. However, the boy's face fell. His eyes no longer penetrated the inspector but dragged along the ground. _Ah, there it is. The consequences of his crime are sinking in_. "You are allowed to make one phone call and also to request a lawyer if you wish." Chelmey couldn't help but to show a smug grin. _No lawyer in the world could prove his innocence. _

"I don't want to call anyone. But thank you, sir." _I have no one in my life to call._

"Very well. Barton, attend him to his cell." The chubby officer saluted the inspector as he continued. "You're still young, so a cell alone would be a harsh experience. The police have generously decided to give you a prison-mate. He's about your age so you two should get along just nicely. The cell is bigger, too. Lucky you."

_Generously? I actually want a cell alone. After all, you get used to it. Being alone, that is. _

Barton picked up a pile of neatly folded prison clothes on a nearby counter. "We don't like seeing young inmates wearing those striped ones. This is just a tee and simple shorts. They're comfy – and seeing the striped reflection of your clothes on the water never makes anyone feel any better. Now come along." The officer gestured Clive to follow, as if he was scared to hold like with any other regular prisoner. And Clive did follow, with the same sunken look on his face as when the inspector mentioned his personal belongings.

"We've arrived." Barton stated. He pulled a set of shiny silver keys from his belt and jingled through them until he found the correct key. "Ah, there it is. D129." The metal gate screeched open and Clive walked in without hesitation, his back to the officer. "Here are the clothes. Of course, we'll need you to change. I'll be back in a short while to collect your old clothes." Barton took out the key to Clive's handcuffs and undid them. Then, he closed the cells' only way out, locked it, and quickly left with a little jump as he attempted to whistle a happy tune.

Clive still had his back turned to the iron gate of freedom. He brought his arms forward and looked at them. It was good to be able to move them again. There were circular indents in the skin of his wrists were the cuffs had been. _They would fade eventually._

The young man scanned his cell from left to right. There was a bed on the left wall that looked extremely dead. It had a pillow that was as flat as a sheet of paper. In the corner was a small, flushable urinal. Next to it was a simple sink. The walls themselves were cold to the touch. _Classic stone cell._ In the middle of the wall right across from where he stood was a single wooden bench. It stuck to the wall by a couple of chains. In front of the bench was a small rectangular table, appropriately sized for a meal shared between two people. Above the wooden bench was a small hole to the outside world. In it were four steel bars to prevent escape. _Not that they're needed. That hole is a good four meters above ground. _He looked out the window. It was well into the night, but even the usually brilliant stars hid tonight.

_The inspector was right. This cell is almost twice as big as a regular one. _Then his mind sparked with a realization. He looked to the right of the cell. As he thought, there was another bed. In fact, the entire cell was symmetrical. Lying on the bed was a figure. Because of the odd L-shape of the cell, there wasn't enough light from the outside to completely make out the features of his mate.

"Well, are you just going to stand there and look dumbfounded like an idiot? Or are you going to your bed and make this place feel just like home?"

By the voice, it was another young male, as Chelmey had indirectly told him. Clive reluctantly walked towards his bed and sat down, all while his eyes tried to focus on this stranger.

"Oh. I'm sorry the light doesn't really reach my corner. Blame the architects."

Clive didn't like this person's tone. "Enough with the wise-talk. Do you have a name?"

He laughed. "A name? You come in here and the first thing you want to know is my name? Names don't matter here, smart guy. Not until you're out of this dump. But I'll tell you anyways. The name's Joshua – but you can call me Josh. We're going to be best friends forever in these coming years, aren't we pal?"

Clive didn't like this guy – Joshua, one bit. He decided not to reply, turned his back to him, and began changing out of his old clothes, as was his orders.

"Whoa man. I know we're best friends but don't you think you're going a littleee too quickly here?" In the darkness, Josh held both his hands up in a 'stop' gesture but Clive could tell he was smiling even without facing him.

That blew the silent bomb ticking in Clive's mind. "Look here wise guy! We can get along without talking, or we can just not get along at all. I have no intention of being 'best friends forever' with you, nor am I in the mood to talk to you at all if your personality is really that stuck-up as it is." He slipped on the t-shirt and quickly folded his old clothes in a neat pile. At the very top, there was something missing. The blue hat he had bought for one sole reason. _What are these clothes, really? I only got them to be the imitation 'Future Luke'. But what kind of future do I have for myself?_ He placed the pile at the gate of the cell so that when Barton came, the officer could just reach in and grab it without the two making any more communication at all.

"Feisty, aren't we?"

Clive no longer wished to pay any heed to his prison-mate. He once again walked back to his bed and lay down, preparing to sleep – or at least, think. He closed his eyes and began to drift off into his own world.

"And I thought a true gentleman was supposed to be polite wherever he was." The words immediately opened up Clive's eyes. "Ah, there we go. Finally, a good response."

"You know what your problem is Joshua? Do you ever stop talking? Now shut up and go to sleep." _Those words were probably just a coincidence. I'm not going to get this guy on my nerves. He's nothing compared to everything else I had to go through today. All my years of hard work... to be crushed by - _

"You planned all these years to have your revenge, yet you still invited the Professor into your scheme, knowing he would ruin it. In truth, you were always indebted to him as child, and twice more so now. "

That did it. Clive got up from his bed and stood, breathing heavily at the dark figure in the shaded area of the room. "How do you know so much about me?"

Joshua's voice was gravely mocking. "_You_ just told me yourself with that reply, didn't you?" He saw the anger surging in the eyes of his prison-mate. "Just kidding. It's called eavesdropping. They, the police, didn't tell me directly. While I was being led to this cell, I heard Chelmey talking with other officers about your situation. That was before he met up with you. Surprising how an instant in the hallway could tell me so much, huh?"

"You know so much about me, I should at least have the right to see your face!" Clive stormed over to the other bed and brought his arm out. He grabbed the cuff of Joshua's shirt and forcefully brought him out into the light.

"Well, you see my face. What now? You would've seen it tomorrow morning anyways." Joshua shrugged, irritating Clive even more.

As Inspector Chelmey had said, Joshua was about Clive's age, probably older. He had dark brown hair that slightly flew out to give it a 'fluffy' kind of look. He was the same height as Clive too, but was skinnier. Prison food is generally nutritious, so he probably just has a good metabolism. Besides the facial features, nothing really stood Joshua out from any other male adolescent.

Clive gritted his teeth. There was really nothing he could say. Whoever this Joshua was, he had wits. He had beaten Clive in a game before he even knew there was one. He let go of Joshua's shirt and avoided eye contact to avoid admitting this quick defeat. _I must keep my guard up. He's not the type of person I expected to have met here. Why couldn't I have just had a cell to myself?_

"You're a pretty good actor, I must say. You had everyone fooled for the longest time. Even Layton! To be able to do that without any slip ups! Until the end of the show of course." Joshua began clapping as if he were part of an audience, but stopped shortly after. "You must really know this gentleman business. I would've failed and have had Layton see right through me on day one if I were given the same assignment."

"I can see that." Clive began walking back to his bed once again, and noticed his old clothes at the gate were gone. _Barton must have come already._ But he couldn't help but feel a bit lonesome. Those clothes were the last thing that he had from the outside while he was still free. _Now Clive, as soon as I reach that bed I'm going to sleep and shun that ever-talking Joshua out of my mind._

"I know you're not a true gentleman, though, no matter how well you can act."

_He's just playing with you. Whatever this guy did to get in here, he must've gotten away with it for a long time._

"I can see it in your eyes, you know."

_Only a couple more steps._ The cell, only a few meters wide, seemed to take forever to walk across. Or rather – Clive's legs were slowing down. _Don't you dare betray me, body._

"No matter how much you enjoyed spending time with Layton, you can never be like him."

A quick breath was drawn from his lips. His eyes stared point blank at the bed.

"You promised Layton that you will atone for your crimes. But I can tell you still seek revenge."

By now, his legs stopped moving completely.

"I can help you get that revenge. That is, if you help me too."

Something regained life in the heart of Clive's body. Ten years ago, it was born. And for ten years, it was feeding and grew stronger. Only a couple hours ago, it had been destroyed. No, not destroyed. Merely... covered up. And now it was being re-excavated like an archaeologist finding a solution to a puzzle.

* * *

**A/N:** This is my first Professor Layton story – and actually my first story in a long time involving characters not of my own creation.


	2. Alliance

A/N: Professor Layton still doesn't belong to me.

**Chapter Two: Alliance**

His eyes stared knowingly at the bed. No, not exactly at the bed, but rather through it. It started with a slight grin, then his head heaved upward and he began to laugh vicariously. He turned around. "Well, well, well. What do we have here? You? Being able to help me? Don't make me laugh anymore than I have to." Clive's eyes glared at the person still calmingly sitting on the bed across from him.

Joshua looked surprised. That mocking laugh was not the response he expected. _No matter. _He shrugged with a look of displeasure. "Yes. That is what I said isn't it? You help me – I help you. It's a win-win situation!"

Clive eyes regained their regular composure as he watched Joshua get up and... wrap his arm around Clive's own shoulder. "Hey back off!" He slapped the stranger's arm off. "What do you think you're doing?"

Joshua once again used both his hands to motion that 'stop' gesture towards him. "Hey man, calm down. I told you already didn't I? If we're going to get through this, we gotta work together like bff's."

"I told you already – I'm not interested!"

"Well, maybe not in the friends part, but surely you're into the..." The fluffy-haired man paused for effect. "Revenge."

Something once again pulsated in Clive. He knew it was and wanted to deny the feeling. _No, no, no! If I do it again, I'll just fail again!_ "Well... what do you suppose we do? Break out of here?" In a way, he said this to ridicule that big-shot. But a part of him said it because Clive was indeed interested in what Joshua had in mind.

"Not me... you. You're the one that's breaking out."

"So now I'm supposed to go solo? After you had promised me that we'd be 'best friends forever'?"

Joshua laughed. "I knew I could get you to say it." This brought an angry glare. "With all seriousness, I could never get out here. Not legally anyways."

Clive regained his cool posture. His voice was calm and collected, but inside him something desperately wanted to know the plan. "So you expect _me_ to able to without breaking the law?" He paused. "You already know why I'm in here in the first place. I have no one to bale me out of jail legally through money or otherwise."

"But of course there's a way _you_ can get out. You're Legal."

-x-

A bell sounded throughout the halls of the cells. "It's lunch time! Out with you all. Off the beds, come here now to collect your food or we're leaving." Groups of wardens scattered throughout the station. Each carried a cart topped with trays. Of course none of them would actually leave someone without food – but these phrases were said anyways since most of the inmates had barely any type of conversation. Harsh words were better than no words at all.

"Oooh lookie here Clive! They're serving loafs of bread with raisins today! Yum!" Joshua was in his happy-go-lucky personality. There was a sheepish grin on his face as he brought the two trays – one for each of them – onto the familiar rectangular table and took a seat on the bench.

_Don't be fooled, Clive, inside that shell of happiness is a deadly person to deal with._ "Coming, Joshua." He washed his hands in the ever-freezing water of the sink and wiped them on the napkin that come with the food tray. Clive sat down on the bench with little distance between him and Joshua. In the first few days, he would sit as far as he could. It had been six short weeks since Clive had entered prison, but he was already used to it.

Day to day life was simple. You would wake up, eat breakfast, mope around or sleep, do any work the wardens assigned you to do, and that was pretty much it – three times a day. On weekends however, all the inmates were released to eat in the cafeteria. It was enormous, and food served on those days was considered more 'proper' food. On some days there were omelettes, other days they served soups. But occasionally they would get tea. Others complained about how tea was the weakest beverage to get served. It was either too bitter or too tasteless, but Clive didn't mind. Tea... it reminded him of the short time he spent with Layton. He wondered what the Professor was up to nowadays.

"Oh dear, Clive. You're eating absentmindedly! I can tell you knowww. Look at all those crumbs collecting around your mouth!" Clive broke out of his daydream. Next thing he knew, a very familiar hand was wiping the crumbs off his face. "Look at all this wasted bread that you could've eaten. And all these fallen raisins! That's like half the entire loaf on your face!" But Clive didn't resist. He gave up trying to stand against his prison-mate's strange behaviour and instead learned to accept it.

"Too many things on your mind, Clive my boy?"

"Yeah."

Joshua had already finished his loaf of raisin bread and opened up his jello cup. He wet the plastic spoon in his mouth before scooping up the first of the gelatinous substance. "Don't worry, you'll be out soon. Just a little while longer."

"Yeah." It was as if the sudden thought of the Professor had gotten Clive in a daze. Joshua could see through Clive that something was bothering him. But he was no psychic. Clive finished his bread and drank the glass of water. He then stepped off towards his bed.

"You're not going to finish your jello?"

"You can have it." He lay down and pulled the sheet over him. He faced the wall.

Joshua didn't giggle at the thought of having an extra dessert like he usually would have. _What could be suddenly bothering him so much? I have to snap him out of it soon..._

-x-

It had happened only moments before. The trees rustled viciously and a wave of heat blew towards him. A sudden dread befell a heart that would get all innocence stripped from it moments later. He got off the swings of the nearby playground. Their chains jingled as he ran as fast as his little legs would take him towards the only place he knew.

In front of him was a shocking sight. It was everywhere... the flames. To his right was a building blown into fragments; it bore lunging flames the size of the building. But he didn't care about the laboratory to the right. He stared right at the apartment in front of him. He could hear the fires laughing at his confused eyes. What had happened? He could feel the danger and all it did was draw him in.

Then a rage brought him into frenzy. He immediately began running towards the burning building. But he was stopped. An older man held him back. As much as he struggled, he couldn't break free from the man's grip.

"I need to go back! My parents are still inside!" He was tearing up, no matter how much he didn't want to. He had to be strong. Strong enough to save them!

"Pull yourself together, boy! There's nothing to be done! Jump back in there, and you'll die too!"

"No! No!" He was still trying to break free, but in the end instead gave into his embrace. All he could do now was hope.

There was smoke rising everywhere. Some civilians ran, while others carried buckets of water to try to douse the fire. Their attempts brought success but to the boy, they were futile. He didn't care that half of the apartment was saved. The first half – the important half – was already gone.

He wiped his tears once, twice, thrice. But they kept coming back. But suddenly, they stopped. He looked up into the sky. There were still remnants of the smoke floating around. He looked around him. The destruction was inevitable. There was nowhere he could go that didn't remind him of what just happened.

...

"_Clive, dear Clive! Look what I got for you today!"_ Her smile delighted the boy and brought him happiness. He didn't care of the toys or her large fortune. It was her smile that kept him going. The toys were just a bonus. _"Look Clive, it's a new robot!"_ She waddled the brightly painted figure closer to him, making lousy attempts at robotic noises.

"_That's not how you do it! It goes beep beep piu piu erkkk!" _Her laugh was like a musical symphony in response to his adorable sounds. He held up his old robot and wiggled it around. Its colours were faded but he still loved it. The laughs they shared. The smiles she showed no matter what happened. That was all he needed to go on forever.

...

"_Clive... I'm so sorry..."_

Not again. Not again! He would have nothing of it! He cried and screamed. He held her hand and squeezed it tight. She squeezed his in return with what little strength was left. He desperately tried to keep it warm, but the pale hand showed no sign of gaining his heat. _"You promised me! You promised me!"_

She muttered a few words that only he could hear. He gave up struggling to keep her warm. The last bit of her strength left and he no longer felt a grip on his hands. Her arm loosely fell.

The men arrived. They brought a sheet. He knew what it was for.

She looked at the men, then at him. _"You brought me so much happiness in these five years... I-I love you... Clive..."_ Even in such a state, she managed to smile. Her eyes closed. The sheet was brought over her. Then she was taken away.

-x-

Clive woke up with a startled jump. There was a dreadful sensation throughout his body as he hyperventilated. He knew he had a dream that lasted all throughout the night, but he couldn't recall what it was about. He just knew it gave him the chills when he tried thinking about it. He looked over to the other side of the cell. Joshua was still sleeping. _Well, today's the day..._ He got up to the sink and washed his face. The sounds awoke Joshua as the half-awake man yawned.

"Josh... we're really going through with it right? No backing out?"

The fluffy haired man got up and admired himself in the mirror. "Yeah. What'd I tell you Clive my man, best friends forever. You help me, I'll help you."

-x-

Four guards walked him through the hallway. He was walking through a part of the station that he had never seen before. To the end of the hall was a giant door. The sentries that stood at the door saluted the ones that guided him, nodded, and opened the door.

Inside was the probably the fanciest room in the building. Right across from him was man at the desk. The man, the minister of justice, spoke with a low but firm voice. "This is..?"

One of his escorts answered. "Prisoner 627802. Clive, sir."

"Ah, yes. That one that nearly caused the destruction of all of London." Clive grimaced at those words. "Why did you ask to see me?"

"Your Honour, I would like to ask for an early leave. A... parole."

The man stood up and slammed his hands on the desk. He looked at the escort guards. "Is this young man serious? A _parole?_ In _his_ state?" He laughed. "So I've heard you've been obedient here. You've never disobeyed a command and worked as well as any man. But I don't believe you can ever be excused for your years of sentence. You've only been here, what, two months at most?"

"I'm afraid I'm absolutely serious, Your Honour." Clive paused. For a split second he smirked but quickly hid it again. "You see, I have some information that you might be interested in."

The minister gave a quick look at the guards and they knew they were to leave his office immediately. "Very well. Let me hear it."

For the past six weeks, while other inmates would be sleeping or doing other miscellaneous things, Clive and Joshua worked together. They knew that they weren't the only ones that planned escape. On the days with the huge cafeteria meetings, they would pick up as much juicy information as they could. Who was trying to smuggle in weapons? Who was plotting a group effort to escape? Smoke bombs for confusion? Or maybe they were up to the classic 'tunnel out of jail' plan.

Joshua had his way of words to get whatever he needed to know out of others. Clive knew this extremely well – he could never forget their first day of meeting. Clive on the other hand, was an excellent strategist. Joshua knew this to be true, after all, who else would spend ten years of their life plotting revenge? Sure it may have failed, but that was because of an unlikely intellectual. And thus they began scheming to bring up a story that would for sure convince minister to get Clive out. And once out, Clive would fulfil the second part of their plan.

Clive began slowly. He talked about the criminals of London. He talked about how for all his life he too, was a law-abiding citizen. It was only the shock of losing all his family that brought him into the condition he was in. The minister said nothing and only nodded occasionally. Then Clive bent down his head and he grinned. He looked up again and began talking about the plots of other prisoners.

At this, the minister was appalled. He laughed. "Who would have thought? Criminals turning against their own kind!"

"Make no mistake, sir, I am not like them. Imagine, losing your family. Your wife, your children, everyone that has meant everything to you. Could you go on living like that?" Clive knew his plan was going through. "Here I am, legally trying to get out of prison while all these others are trying to break free against the law." The minister stared at him. _He's buying it. He knows this as the truth. _"There's one more thing. I would like to regain the trust of humanity by being put under the supervision of a man I believe you know very well. Professor Hershel Layton. I wish to become his apprentice."

-x-

He heard the familiar clapping. "Clive my boy! You did it! You're busting out of here!" Joshua was smiling delightfully with a hint of slyness. "You're coming back for me right?"

"Of course I am, Josh. I promised you." Barton had brought back his old clothes, the 'Luke' clothes, and he was wearing them now. They actually weren't his style, but he had to wear them if he were to truly give off the appearance of a 'true gentlemen' like before.

Two guards came and unlocked the iron gate of freedom to cell D129. Clive walked out calmly and ran through everything in his mind again. He stole one last look at Joshua, who was sitting on his bed. His prison-mate waved once, a simple goodbye, and Clive nodded in return.

The escorts led him to the entrance of the station. There were lots of windows here, and the officer at the counter nodded to the escorts. Clive hadn't been in such a bright room in a long time. The escorts helped him open the doors.

He was blinded by the true light of the sun, something he hadn't experience in what felt like an eternity. He took a few hesitant steps out at first, but then hastened his steps and then stopped. Here he was, at the entrance of the police station on Scotland Yard. A wide range of buildings were the first thing he saw. There was that long unheard call of robins in the day, and a brilliant gush of wind flew by him. He took a deep breath.

_I... am fr__ee. Now it's time to meet my dear friend, the Professor.__  
_

_

* * *

_

**A/N:** I really like this chapter, but can't help but think there's something strange about it when reading it...  
Please correct any inaccuracies about jail or parole because I don't actually know how it really works..  
I'm also not good at writing some types of scenes (like emotional). My apologies for any off-ness ;_;


	3. Adjusting

Disclaimer: Professor Layton and all related characters still don't belong to me.

**Chapter Three: Adjusting**

"Professor?"

"Yes, Luke?" The mentor steadily drove his apprentice in the good old Laytonmobile to a very familiar headquarters.

"Are you sure... That is..." Luke was shuffling uneasily in his seat.

Layton smiled a knowing smile. "You want to ask me if it's safe to meet up with Clive again, correct?"

By now, Luke had gotten used to his spot on predictions and cheerfully stated, "Of course you're right, Professor!" He paused as the smile faded. "But you know, he's been plotting an evil scheme for such a long time and I'm not sure if we can trust him. What if he tries to trick us again? I'm surprised he got accepted to get out early on parole in the first place!"

The Professor reached a red light and closed his eyes temporarily. "You're right about that, Luke. I remember that in the paper it said his sentence in jail was to be at least twenty years. But then again, a true gentleman must always give second chances to everyone. Remember Luke, he even promised to atone for his crimes." _I wonder what could have happened to convince the authorities that Clive is ready to come out already. But then... He was never a criminal to begin with._ _Just a misguided child._ The streetlight became green and he resumed driving toward Scotland Yard.

Luke pouted and kicked his legs a few times. "I don't know about this, Professor. But if you insist that it's fine..."

-x-

The young man had been pacing back and forth on the same ground for ten minutes. His head was down and hands were in the pockets of his pants. Occasionally he would look up when he heard a sound, whether it was a car passing by or people that would taking a walk. Two officers were there standing at the door of the police headquarters, watching him. _Do they really think I would just run away if they weren't watching me?_

Suddenly, he heard the clunk of an engine and turned to face the direction of the sound. A smile came up to his face as he hastily walked towards it. The red vehicle quickly found a parking space, stopped, and the door of the driver's seat opened immediately. "Professor! It's nice to see you again!" Clive welcomed him heartedly.

The Professor walked towards the young man and tipped his hat in greeting. "As to you, Clive. I see you're well and about!" He nodded at the two officers as they nodded back. "Give my regards to Inspector Chelmey. This young man is in good hands." The two officers saluted and entered the building behind them.

Following Layton were the footsteps of his apprentice. Luke looked awkwardly at the young man standing before him. He made a childish face and stated "Well this isn't funny at all! What are you doing still wearing that getup for?" He stared accusingly at the blue jacket, knee-high socks, and shoes, but was glad that his signature blue hat was nowhere to be found on the taller boy's head.

Clive laughed. "How am I supposed to be a gentleman's apprentice if I don't dress like a gentleman?" _Here I am... acting again. I guess what Josh said was true – I am a good actor._ "Now what kind of fine establishment may I take shelter in?"

The Professor replied knowingly. "You'll be staying with us, of course." But Layton suddenly stared deep into the young man's eyes. "Clive, you are aware of the circumstances, are you not?"

The laughter quickly faded away from Clive and was replaced by a frown. "Yes of course I am, Professor. There is no man in London, perhaps the entire country, that doesn't know the features of my face."

"Yes." Not wanting to continue this discussion any further, Professor Layton stepped towards the Laytonmobile. "Well come on then you two! Let's go home!"

Luke ran toward the Professor and quickly climbed into the front seat like he always did. Clive staggered behind and made his way to the backseat. "Buckle-up Clive." He heard the Professor chime, as he quickly fastened his seat belt and listened to the engine of the car came alive.

_Home..._

-x-

Professor Layton's house was unsurprisingly simple in the eyes of Clive. The paint of the exterior was a bright maroon that had not yet faded. A single chimney stuck out from the rooftop and was spouting smoke towards the sky. The party of three stepped out from the automobile and the Professor was first to approach the door set atop a couple of steps. He jingled out a ring of keys, inserted the one for his house, clicked the lock, and opened the door.

The hallway's carpet had a clean hue of green, matched with the beige colour of the wallpaper. "Here we are, Clive. My home. Come on now, I'll show you where you can stay." Clive followed the Professor as Luke went off upstairs towards his own room. He examined the surrounding rooms of the house as they passed. There was a living room, a kitchen, dining room, and bathroom. They were all intricately decorated with an assortment of art and particles only the Professor would understand. Finally Layton stopped walking and held his hand out to a door that was at near the end of the house. "I am sorry for not being able to supply you with a room upstairs, but they are all taken by Luke, Flora, and myself."

Clive however, was not disappointed. "Thank you for your hospitality, Professor." He held his arm across his chest in gratitude.

"Well, go on then. Are you going to open it?"

Clive smiled. He reached his arm out, turned the doorknob, and opened what was to be the only private space in the house he'll have. Or perhaps not so private. _Perhaps the Professor will look through it when I'm not around._ No, that was not the gentleman's way. But _Luke might look through it._ The young man carefully swung the door open. The room's interior was quite dashing. Two large windows situated themselves right across from where he stood. There was a nice bed in the corner to the right, and next to it was a hand-carved desk with a typewriter and a lamp. To the left of the windows were a wardrobe, an antiquely designed grand-father clock, and a piano.

The Professor tipped his hat. "I hope you find this comfortable. This is merely a guest room, though I don't have many guests ... So instead I have the habit of just storing in here any miscellaneous paraphernalia I find. You are free to use anything in here to your liking – provided you don't break it of course." He smiled.

The young man returned the smile. "That's alright, Professor. As long as I have a bed to sleep on and food to eat, I'll be fine." He approached the piano and sat down on its bench. Clive delicately placed his fingers on the keys and pressed on C minor. A sharp screeching was the result, and startled Clive into his whole body giving a lurch.

"Oh dear." The Professor took a look at the piano and then at Clive. "Apologies about the piano, Clive. It has seen many years and the tune is a bit off. I guess it slipped my mind to tune it as I do not come into this room very often. Ah, you play the piano?"

"No harm done, Professor. And, yes, I do know the basics." Though Clive was still breathing heavily from the shock, he put up the best smile he could at the moment.

"I'll leave you be now, Clive. If you need anything, I'll be in the living room reading the daily paper and sipping some tea." Professor Layton gave a quick nod and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Clive stood there at the piano and waited for a couple of minutes. When he was sure the Professor had left him to his peace, he gave a thorough examination of his room. Next to the door were shelves of peculiar china and other tidbits of art that Clive could not make out. The wardrobe was completely empty aside from some casual looking clothes that he could not imagine the Professor wearing, which included a red hat and vest. There was still plenty of space available, so he decided to use it as his own once he got some other clothing. After having examined the wardrobe, Clive approached the desk and examined it. It had unique shade of browns and yellows which made him assume it to be oak, and were finely laminated to be extremely smooth. In the drawers of the desk were paper, pens, ink, and an assortment of other writing instruments. The type-writer and lamp on the desk appeared to be fully functional, and they too seemed to be made of fine craftsmanship. _That's following the Professor's style alright_.

After making sure that there was nothing in the room such as holes that could allow the Professor or Luke to spy on him, Clive finally lay down on the bed which had a feathery pillow and was now his own. The mattress was of a fine material and Clive could feel his body drift into a deep sleep. He had forgotten how it felt to be on a real bed after having slept on the thin uncomfortable one in prison. In the back of his mind, something nudged at Clive. But he chose to ignore it. All he needed now was sleep, some real sleep.

**-**x-

A feeling of uncertainty was what woke Clive up many hours later. He shuffled in the bed, blinking half-awake, and realized that he has not slept so well for a long time. It took the young man a short instant to remember his surroundings and he looked out the window. It was a beautiful sight; the sun had nearly disappeared for the day but a mass of rays still shown in the sky creating a mixed canvas of red, purple, and orange. _When was the last time I watched a sunset? In the dark prison, the most we got of the sun was a few streams of light from that window._ Clive got up and properly sat on the bed with head down, legs apart, and his arms hanging down on them.

"What am I doing here?" He murmured to himself. "I shouldn't be here. I should be out there in _my_ room, not accepting more generosity from the man who has saved me twice. I need to-". His thoughts were interrupted by a knocking that made his head rise immediately towards the door. Taking a breath, Clive got up and walked towards the door. He grabbed the handle and opened it.

There in the doorway stood the young maiden, Flora. Even though she was the one that knocked for him, Flora seemed to be taken slightly aback once Clive had opened the door and was staring straight at her. Her face flushed red as she spoke hurriedly. "Hello there Clive. Um, it's nice to see you again. Just so you know dinner is ready just down the hall. Come on now, we're all waiting for you." Once it was clear that the young man would not be replying as he stared strangely at her, Flora awkwardly stepped back, turned, and tried to act normal as she rushed towards the dining room. Clive watched as she disappeared and made a left turn at the end of the hallway.

He smiled suddenly. Not because of joy, but because of the irony. "Am I supposed to be eating at the same table as them? As if they are a family to me? The very people that ruined my plans..." Clive spoke quietly to himself." I've eaten alone for so long now. This will probably be most uncomfortable meal I would have in a long time." He walked through the hallway step by step, expecting the worse and purposefully wasting time. "Maybe they're half finished by now and I'll have some time alone to eat." But the closer he got to the dining room, the hungrier he felt as the scents of real food invaded his nostrils and he eventually gave in and quickened his pace. _Now all I have to do is turn this corner and..._

There it was. A nicely-crafted table that had many dishes of steaming hot food on top of it. Flora sat on a chair that faced him and she smiled uncomfortably at him. The Professor and Luke had their chairs turned back on the young man, but once they saw Flora's smile, they turned around and noticed Clive standing there. It was Layton that broke the silence. "Clive! How nice of you to join us. We were beginning to think that you might not be hungry." It was then that Clive realized none of the food had been touched yet as he approached the table. _Were they all waiting for me to come before eating? _A guilty feeling entered his gut.

Luke's childish demeanour broke through as he exclaimed, "Well it's about time. I thought I was going to starve!" He patted his growling tummy and as soon as Clive sat down on the chair next to Flora, the boy picked up a fork and started grabbing some potatoes onto his plate.

Normally, Layton would have scolded Luke for such rude behaviour but he let it go this time. The Professor was focused on Clive this fine night. "Have anything you want. There's plenty for everyone. We don't usually prepare this much. But since this is a special occasion..." He coughed slightly on the last words as he fiddled with the spoon for the cup of some Earl Grey tea.

"And try my sandwiches too!" Flora piped up, but even she was reaching for the Professor's cooking.

Clive stared at the many dishes on the table. He had no idea where to begin. There was shepherd's pie seasoned with black pepper, freshly baked mashed potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, and of course, Flora's specialty sandwiches. In the corner was dessert of trifles covered in blueberries and whipping cream. Once again, his mind tried to flashback to the last time he had eaten so much food. Not in a fancy restaurant but as a home cooked meal. He personally wasn't a chef and normally just made himself omelettes or soups, and was quite surprised that the professor had such a fine hand in cooking. Clive was still hesitating as Flora ate and Luke gobbled down as much as he could.

"Would you like some tea, Clive?" The Professor's voice brought him back to reality. "You still haven't eaten anything yet."

"It's alright, Professor. Thank you for the offer." Clive looked at Layton and noticed that he hadn't touched any of the food either. "What's wrong, Professor? Why are you not eating?"

It was as if Clive was doing the spell breaking as Layton broke out of his trance and laughed cheerfully as if on cue. "Why Clive, you're absolutely right! Though tea is really all I need." Layton reached a hand out for some shepherd's pie with his fork, but to Clive's surprise, Layton brought it to Clive's plate rather than his own. "Have some. I haven't made this dish in a while so I hope it doesn't taste that bad."

The young man looked down at the steaming pie in front of him. He took one glance at the Professor whom was smiling cheerfully, broke off a piece with his fork, and chewed it whole heartedly. "This is amazing!" Clive was astounded by the taste that he literally jumped out of his seat. Then in embarrassment, he sat back down and laughed. "I guess I haven't eaten something like this in a long time, that's all." To Clive's relief, the other three diners all laughed alongside him.

Flora hurried to feed the eccentric young man as she picked up a sandwich and plopped it on Clive's plate. "Try mine next!" To this, Clive scratched the back of his head and told her that he'll try it later, much to the lady's dismay.

The dinner proceeded without worry as the four of them ate and laughed together. Jokes were made and stories such as the professors' past triumphs were told, but there was no discussion about topics that would end the merriment. After the meal, a very joyous young man volunteered to clean up, refrigerate the many remaining sandwiches, and wash the dishes as he felt a curiously warm sensation in his heart. But as he was doing the dishes, the others faded away to do their own personal hobbies and soon, Clive was left alone with only the sound of running water and a mind full of thought.

_I haven't eaten like this for a long time. Eaten like what, exactly. Like a family? _The word struck at him like a venomous snake. _What am I thinking? They are not family to me. I'm out here on my request to be Layton's apprentice. Then Layton is supposed to be regarded as my teacher, correct? Not a guardian, not a guardian! My only guardian – foster mother – is, and will ever be Miss Dove... And my parents, they..._

Some dishwater splashed under his left eye and ran down his cheek. _Stop thinking, Clive .This was just an ordinary dinner and I will continue to have dinners in this household. That is, until I can regain a paying job and move out again. But before that I have to take back my belongings... That's right! This nonsense has made me forget about my priorities. First thing tomorrow, I have to pay them a visit. I have so much to owe them for, yet now I have nothing to give back... But do I dare to show my face? _

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait, guys. School's really taking a load on me. I'm graduating this Friday..! :'D


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